


DC al Coda

by Tseecka



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Disability, Gen, Musician!Arthur, Trigger: pet death, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tseecka/pseuds/Tseecka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has been blind since birth, and almost as long as he can remember, it's been he, his mother, and his service dog, King. But dogs don't live as long as humans, and when the time comes for the inevitable goodbye, Arthur will rely on Gwen--sweet, unassuming, endearing Gwen from Guide Dogs for the Blind--to find him a new companion and restore his confidence in himself and his love of music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had terrible writer's block for the last 8 months or so, and while I've got a billion fic ideas rattling around up here, this was one that made itself known in the shower this morning, stuck with me all the way to work, and barfed out onto a blank page in the space of a few hours when I really should have been, you know, working. I can't promise it's much, but it's something, and I do have every intention of completing it. 
> 
> (Tags subject to change as the story wears on :D)
> 
> I hope you like!

“Hey, buddy,” Arthur murmured softly, scratching his fingers into the dog’s ruff. He could feel his hand trembling, and King whined, sensing Arthur’s distress. "You're gonna be okay," he promised, but he could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

* * *

 

Arthur hated his cane. He hated the "tap-tap-tap" sound it made as he swung it across the floor, hated hearing the scuffling of feet as people quickly tried to dodge out of his way, hated the way just it's presence in his and would make people raise their voices and drag out their words, like they thought the loss of one sense must have impacted the others. He had to walk more slowly, feeling his way along.

With King, he could walk like a normal human being, trusting his dog to make the necessary course adjustments. People didn't dart out of the way of his cane; they just parted for him, as they would for any other person walking through the hall or down the street. He didn't have to be hyper-aware of his steps, could relax, take the strides his long legs were accustomed to, walk with confidence instead of the cowardice his cane reduced him to.

And people treated him more like normal, not half-yelling when they had to speak to him, often barely even noticing his infirmity as they asked if they could pet the big black lab. Sometimes he would decline, apologetic, quoting the IGDF and saying that "he's actually a service dog, not a pet, so he shouldn't be distracted while he's working". But King was good, amazing, brilliant with kids and adults alike and as professional as it was possible for a dog to be, and Arthur'd yet to see any problems arise in his guiding skills from every once in awhile allowing himself to be scratched by random dog-loving passersby. So people would crouch, their voices suddenly coming from his feet rather than somewhere at head or shoulder level, and rub King's ears, and forget all about the blind man standing at the other end of the harness. That suited Arthur just fine.

But as soon as he was reduced to using the cane, that normality vanished, along with his confidence. He was back to feeling along walls, voices that were either hushed to talk about him as he passed or too loud when they spoke to him directly, and the lack of confidence that emptied him of any self-assuredness the minute he left the apartment with the cane, and not King's harness, in his hand. And that was the main reason he hated the cane. Because the only time he was reduced to using it was when King couldn't be with him.

* * *

 

He'd known it was coming, had known it for years. His mother, and the representative from Guide Dogs, had both cautioned against keeping King as his service dog once he turned eight, but he'd refused to part with him. King was as much a part of him as his hand, his foot; the idea of parting with him prematurely was impossible to comprehend. "Dogs don't live forever," his mother had reminded him gently. "It'll be easier to say goodbye now, when you still have the choice, than when he leaves and you're suddenly left without your eyes." Arthur had shaken his head, had known that, if King could comprehend the discussion, he would be just as vehement.

"King stays with me. Until the bitter end," he'd promised, scratching behind King's ear, and the dog had huffed happily and resettled his chin on Arthur's knee. That was confirmation enough for him.

Now, though... Arthur barely even heard the voice of his instructor as he sat on the bench, his heels cold where normally King would be curled up. Everything was /wrong/. Knowing that it was coming still hadn't prepared him for this, the sense of emptiness and loss and wrongness that was left behind in King's wake. The ivory was smooth under his fingertips, but instead of being warm and comforting, it was cold and alien. It reminded him of a steel table, of tears and goodbyes and that last shivering breath of final sleep, and he snatched his fingers back. God.

"Arthur?" Arthur raised a hand at his instructor's approach, waving him back. "I'm sorry, Gaius," he said, his voice shaking. "Today's just...really not a good day."

"Is it King?" he heard Gaius ask, voice hesitant but sympathetic. "I noticed he wasn't with you, I assumed he had an appointment with the veterinarian..."

"It was, but they found cancer, and he was in a lot of pain and I--" Arthur's voice choked in his throat, and he angrily swiped at the tears gathering in his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the corners to try and hold them back. "I had to put him down this afternoon."

"Oh, Arthur..."

It was just that King was so full of life, of energy. It never flagged, never showed signs of leaving him. Sure, he slept earlier, and was content more and more to lay on the porch next to Arthur's feet rather than run off through the grass, but that was just old age. That was expected; just like Arthur had fully expected that one day, he would wake up, and King just wouldn't, that it would be his choice of when it was his time and Arthur wouldn't get any say. And he would grieve, and he would miss him, but it would be natural and normal and Arthur would never have to feel his chest tighten up and nod to a veterinarian whose sympathetic face he couldn't see and kill his own dog.

He knew it was kinder, knew it was the right thing, knew it was the way it was had to be because what else can you do for a twelve year old lab with excruciating stomach cancer. Not making the choice, keeping King with him despite the agony the dog had to be feeling--that would have cruel. Arthur knew that. But knowing that it was the right thing to do didn't make it any easier. He couldn't help feeling like, in the end, somehow, he'd betrayed his most loyal friend. He pulled his hands off of the keyboard and clenched them in his lap, fisting handfuls of his trouser material between his fingers.

He heard Gaius telling him to go home, take the afternoon off, as much time as he needed, in fact."Send me a message when you're ready to resume, I'll excuse you until then. And if you ever need anything..." He nodded mutely and waited until he heard the click of the light switch, cutting off the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Once he knew the room was dark and Gaius was gone, he pulled down the lid of the piano, buried his face in his hands, and wept.

* * *

 

He hated the cane with a passion, and the absence of a warm, furry presence at his side made him uncomfortable, but he hated the thought of replacing King even more. Guide Dogs had called him on a number of occasions, urging him to come out and meet their current training classes, get to know the dogs so they could find him a suitable companion, but every time he even considered it he felt something twist painfully in his chest.

"This is why we told you to retire King before he passed," his mother lectured him over the phone one day, her worry threading through her voice. "You need a dog, Arthur, you can't just go through the rest of your life with that cane. I know how much you hate it. And your confidence, Gaius tells me you can barely play anymore and I know you miss him but you'd just feel so much more like yourself again if you had a dog--"

He hadn't hung up on her, but he had cut her off, explained succinctly that she hadn't been much of herself since his father died 18 years ago and maybe she should consider getting a replacement, and she had said "good-bye" and ended the call shortly after that. The worst of it was that he knew they were right. Gwen at Guide Dogs, his mother, even Gaius--they were all right. He did need another dog. Navigating the busy streets between his flat and the University was a joke with his cane, so much so that he'd started just taking a cab every day, and the only recital he'd given had been a complete disaster. Left with only his cane to find his way to the piano, he'd stumbled and walked almost completely to the other side of the platform before realizing he'd missed the piano entirely. He was so shaken and upset by it that his pieces had been a wreck, fingers fumbling over one another, and he'd forgotten the last half of his Bach.

So when his caller ID intoned that he was receiving a call from Gwen's mobile, rather than ignore it completely as he had been doing, he reluctantly picked up the receiver.

"...Hi."

"Hey, Arthur," she said softly, her voice hesitant as though scared he would start yelling at her. He hadn't, yet, but it had been a near thing and he didn't blame her for her trepidation. "How are you?"

"Terrible, honestly. My recital was a disaster, I'm sure my mother will have told you all about that? And I'm having to give up a few groceries to manage the cab fares for class, but hey, it'll all work out in the end." He didn't bother to keep the bitterness, the tiredness, from his voice. "So, let's just get this over with. When should I come by to meet the puppies?"

Gwen made a little noise--it sounded like a frustrated mewl, the sort of noise a kitten would make, and he smiled briefly. "You know I can't recommend you come in when you're not--"

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll be in a better mood when I come by the school, I promise. I just don't like people telling me they told me so."

"I haven't said anything of the kind!" She sounded legitimately hurt, and he winced. Gwen was a nice person, a really nice person, and she went to great lengths not to say, do, or imply anything negative to or about anyone, anything, or any place. It would be annoying, if it wasn't so endearing and genuine.

"I was thinking about my mum, actually," he responded, and she gave a tired-sounding laugh.

"Fair enough. Listen, though, the reason I called--there is a training class on right now, yes, but I actually have someone in mind specifically--Arthur, he's special. Really, really special, I mean, and I think you two would be perfect for each other, but the family's having a hard time giving him up and I just know--if you came in, if you met him and got the chance to know him, and they got to see you together--really. I think you'll like him--I think you'll love him, actually."

She sounded so excited that it almost got Arthur's curiosity up. Gwen was very careful to always be fair and impartial, making her recommendations based on the interactions of a client and the dog, never before. And it had been so long since he had been to the school that he found it strange that Gwen would be so ready to hook them up without even a first meeting. "What breed is he?" He was already leery; he'd been thinking of looking for a female, actually, a dog with a mellower personality and calmer demeanour, but he kept that to himself for the moment.

"Retreiver. His name's Wizard. Promise me you'll come in and meet him? I mean, you can meet the other puppies too, but Wizard's just--yeah. Next meet and greet is Saturday, at one."

Arthur mentally checked his calendar, noticing, as always, that it was depressingly empty besides schoolwork and music. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Great! Oh, Arthur, that's just--that's great, it really is. Okay. Um--do you need me to come pick you up, or...?"

"I'll find my own way there. Thanks, Gwen."

"Bye, Arthur." He waited until she had hung up, then replaced the receiver in the cradle and ran a hand back through his hair. He felt like he'd just signed his life away by giving in to her requests, but something about her excitement--so different from the kind, personable, but reticient Gwen that he was familiar with--had his curiousity piqued.

"Wizard," he said aloud to the empty flat, trying the name out on his tongue, fingertips moving as he tried to recall the last time he'd met a retreiver.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for the next part of this! I got distracted by work, life, continued struggles with writer's block, a few other fic ideas that have grabbed hold of me. After some encouragement from friends, however, I'm back with part 2!
> 
> Just a note that I am not overly familiar with the process for matching guide dogs to partners, the Redbridge training school, or flat-coated retrievers. I'm sure there are tons of inaccuracies to be found, and if there is anything glaring that you'd like to point out to me, feel free to do so. I am sighted myself, and haven't had opportunity to know many non-sighted people in my life, so I'm kind of going from hearsay and quick Google research. Hope I don't offend anyone with my lack of knowledge; I'm just trying to write fic.

Arthur was feeling nervous as he made his way up the walk to the Redbridge school, cane sweeping the ground in front of him. Around him, the grounds were mostly silent with the exception of the occasional bark or yelp of a dog from somewhere not too far off. He had visited the school occasionally through the years of his partnership with King, helping out where he could and lending a hand for fundraisers and open days, but the area was still mostly unfamiliar to him and he hated the hesitant pace he had to adopt. He reached the door and groped out with one hand for the handle. 

A knocking sound startled him, and he pulled his hand back, taking a few steps away to allow the door to swing open in front of him. "Hey," came Gwen's voice from the doorway, and he offered her a smile. "It's good to see you--honestly, I was a bit worried you wouldn't be coming." 

Arthur collapsed his cane, folding it down and tucking it into the bag he had slung over one shoulder. Instinctively he reached out for the arm that he knew Gwen was already offering, and wrapped his hand around her elbow. "And miss the chance to meet a dog that has even Gwen Ivers in a tizzy? Not on your life." As he spoke, he followed her carefully inside. He was grateful for the warmth of the building against the chilly autumn air outside, and by the way Gwen placed her free hand over his on her arm, he knew she could feel the coldness in his fingers. 

"You didn't walk, did you?" she asked conversationally, tugging him to one side as steps approached from in front of them, and he shook his head. 

"Only part of the way. I hate the bus," he replied, and both felt and heard his friend heave a sigh, knocking into his shoulder with her own. 

"Stubborn git," she muttered, and he felt a smile crack his face in answer to the one he could hear on hers. "Well, I'm glad you came, at any rate. Wizard's in his last couple weeks of training, and they want to find him a partner soon. Normally we'd match you to a younger dog, make sure it's going to be a good fit, but..." she trailed off, her hand tightening a little over his, and he nodded resolutely. 

"But I've already been without a dog for too long."

"Well, yes. I mean, policy is that we would provide you another guide within a couple of weeks, but nothing with you is standard, is it? Anyways. Wizard's really great, but he's a handful, and most of the recent applicants just haven't been a good fit with him--people are scared to have a dog with that much energy around young kids, or they just don't have enough energy to deal with his level of activity. I mean, he's great, really sweet and gentle and wouldn't hurt a flea, but they see him running around the yard and get scared off." Arthur listened as she talked, nodding now and then as he considered. He still hadn't told her that he was planning on asking for a female guide dog, that he didn't feel up to taking care of a dog with boundless energy after placid, geriatric King, and the more she described Wizard the more he felt like he should have explained earlier. It was obvious that Gwen was excited about the match--he could practically feel her vibrating next to him--but he had a sinking feeling that it wasn't going to work out. 

That feeling intensified when Gwen opened another door, letting in a blast of chilly October wind, and led him out to the yard. Almost immediately, there was a rapid-fire barking from the far end, and a male voice called out Wizard's name in a voice that was obviously exasperated. Soon, a wet nose was thrusting itself into Arthur's hand, and a sloppy, slobbery tongue was excitedly greeting him with numerous doggy kisses. He jerked his hand away, startled, and wiped the slobber off on his trouser leg. 

"Sorry!" came the male voice again, coming close, and Gwen subtly turned Arthur so that he was facing the new arrival. He sounded faintly out of breath when he pulled up next to them, but it hadn't been that long, and Arthur surmised that he'd been working with the energetic dog--who was now nosing at the hems of his trouser legs with great interest--for some time before they'd arrived. "He's been really good, I've never seen him just take off like that at a person. Sticks, yes--people, not so much." There was a jangling sound as the trainer clipped a lead to Wizard's harness, and the dog was hauled back a few paces to give Arthur some breathing room. "Hey Gwen," the man added, almost as an afterthought, and Gwen shifted next to him. 

"Gavin," she responded, her voice sounding sunny, and Arthur restrained a smile. "This is Arthur, the man I was telling you about?" Automatically, Arthur pulled his hand from Gwen's arm and held it out in front of him; a few minutes later, a large, dry palm was placed against his, and his hand was enfolded in a firm, quick shake. 

"Nice to meet you, Arthur," he said, and Arthur could detect the faint lilt of a Scottish accent in his voice, subtly colouring the r's of his name. He nodded back and released the man's hand. "I was sorry to hear about King. Glad you'll be giving Wizard a chance, though." There was a pause; Arthur thought the man must have glared down at the dog. "He's normally a lot better behaved that this, I hope you won't judge him too quickly. Gwen's been going on and on about you. Raving, if I'm honest." The grin was obvious, as was Gwen's huff of displeasure, and it took some of the edge off of the pain that had clenched tight around his heart at the mention of King. Quickly, though, before anyone else got any starry-eyed notions of a match made in guide dog heaven, he decided to mention his trepidations. 

"I'll spend some time with him today, but honestly, from what Gwen's told me, I'm not sure it's going to be such a good fit after all. I'm sure he's a great dog, but I was thinking of someone a little less...energetic." He turned his head slightly to indicate Gwen. "Sorry--I know I should have mentioned it earlier, but you were so excited about him that I decided--"

"Wizard!" Gavin's sharp admonishment cut him off, and the source of his displeasure was evident as the dog apparently pulled away, settling himself next to Arthur and leaning, heavily, against his leg. "I'm sorry, Arthur, honestly, he's really a lot better behaved than he's showing right now."

"Just unused to strangers?" Arthur guessed, resigning himself to a quick test before he wrote the dog off as unsuitable and asked to meet the younger puppies. He gently pushed the dog's head to the side, folding to his knees in the slightly damp grass. It wasn't unheard of; guide dogs were supposed to be well socialized as puppies, while in the homes of their volunteer foster parents, but if they didn't do a good enough job it would sometimes affect the dogs demeanour once they left the home and started intensive training. If he was honest with himself, however, he found the dog's attention rather endearing. 

"No, he's usually fine with visitors," Gavin said, sounding worried. "Energetic, but obedient. He's never pulled away from me like that." Arthur twisted his mouth in a look of sympathetic confusion, and raised his hands. Almost immediately, Wizard pushed his head forward, and he found his fingers carding through soft, silky fur. The dog seemed content to sit and wait, not moving while Arthur carefully ran his hands over his head, across his muzzle, and down his neck and shoulders. He did give Arthur's fingers an affectionate lick as Arthur gently ruffled his ears, but settled almost immediately, and the sudden shift in his demeanour was almost frightening. 

Gwen tittered from above him, and he glanced up, eyes questioning. "He looks like he's trying very hard to impress you," she told him, laughing a bit. "His eyes haven't left your face. He's just about vibrating in place, honestly, like he wants to move but he's too focused on keeping still so you won't think he's utterly spastic." Arthur laughed at the mental image. Nearly as soon as he'd let out the quick chuckle, he felt Wizard's warm breath on his face, like the dog had opened his mouth in an animal smile in response to his own. 

"His coat's longer than a normal Golden," he observed, putting the question into his voice as his fingers rubbed a few strands of the dog's silky ruff. It was soft and smooth, and surprisingly warm given the chill of the day; it felt like he'd been lying in a patch of sun for a few hours, and he wanted to put his arms around the dog and rub his face against it. While his initial reaction had been lukewarm at best, he felt himself quickly and inexplicably warming to the retriever. His hands ran down the dog's legs, and he laughed a little when he reached Wizard's front paws as the dog pushed up to sit on his hind legs, offering his paws in a double-shake. Turning his palms face up, he let Wizard rest his pads on his hands, and could feel the vibrations shuddering through the lithe body. Like Gwen had said--he was eager to move, but forcing himself to sit still, and Arthur had to admit that the dog's attempts to impress were working, just a little bit. 

"Didn't I--sorry Arthur, I guess I just told you he was a retreiver, didn't I?" Gwen asked. Her voice was muffled; she'd covered her mouth in embarrassment. He nodded. He had immediately assumed that Wizard was a Golden Retreiver. The Association preferred Goldens and Labs to most other breeds, and he hadn't considered that Wizard might have been anything but. 

"He's a flat-coat," Gavin told him, and Arthur felt him crouch down to his level. Wizard withdrew his paws, settling back on all fours, and a second later he felt Gavin take his hand. The trainer guided his touch as he pointed out the subtle variations in Wizard's body shape that set him apart from the Goldens Arthur had only a faint touch-memory of. Arthur nodded as Gavin explained, and throughout, he felt the weight of Wizard's brown-eyed gaze on him. "What colour is he?" he asked finally, pulling his hands away and idly noticing that they were somewhat slippery from saliva--apparently, Wizard was a bit of a drooler. 

"He's blonde," Gavin answered quickly, and Arthur nodded. He didn't have a colour reference, relaly, but he knew that his own hair was blonde, and that it was on the opposite side of the spectrum, coat colour wise, from King's sable black. For some reason, that comforted him, made it feel a little less like he was trying to replace the loyal labrador. He got to his feet, and a second later, felt Wizard stand next to him, pushing the top of his head against Arthur's hand. Then the warmth was gone, and Arthur felt slightly bereft. 

"What do you think?" he asked Gwen, who was standing to his right. She pressed a hand to his arm as she answered.

"I know you're worried about his energy levels, and maybe he wasn't exactly what you had in mind, but Arthur--I've never seen a dog take to someone so quickly," she told him. "You two look really great together, honestly. the whole time you were sitting there, he didn't move a muscle, and he never took his eyes off your face."

"He's incredibly responsive to you, too," Gavin added. "He'll follow commands to the letter when I tell him--up, stand, lie, sit, the whole kit--but I've never seen him just do it before, without being told. Sitting up when you had your hands on his paws, standing when you did--he even smiled when you laughed, Arthur. It's almost eerie, if I'm honest. A really, really smart dog would manage that kind of coordination with his partner after intensive co-training, but I wouldn't expect it from most until they'd been together at least a year. It requires a dog to know you, understand the subtleties of your movements, be able to sense intention. For you to be that attuned after just meeting..." he paused, and Arthur could hear the glance that Gavin and Gwen exchanged. "Gwen might have been right when she said that you two were meant to be." 

It was a little eerie, to hear it put that way, Arthur thought. He had felt that kind of easy fluidity with King, but only after working with the lab for over a year. He wondered if that ease, that lack of awkwardness, was the reason why he felt comfortable with Wizard in a way he'd never experienced with a new puppy. He already sensed that he would be walking out of the school with a training schedule tucked under his arm for the next four weeks, but, just in case...

"Thinking on his own is all well and good when we're at home," he said aloud, "but he needs to follow commands, too." He held out a hand for the lead. "I'll put him through his paces, then we can talk it over, okay?" 

He felt two paws plant themselves on his thighs, and Gavin's muttered, surprised curse aptly reflected his own thoughts as Wizard gently deposited the end of the lead (and a small puddle of slobber) neatly in the middle of his hand.


End file.
